


Making Her Scream

by g0bliin



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Haunted Houses, Horror, Spooky, a little knifeplay but like not really lol, everyone is 18+, hubert is a cosplay rip off of ghostface, mercedes kinda weird but we all love her??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27231742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/g0bliin/pseuds/g0bliin
Summary: It's the week of Halloween at Garreg Mach University. The Black Eagles once again host their yearly Haunted House, and it's Hubert's first time working there.Rumor has it Mercedes doesn't scare easy. Good thing Hubert knows a thing or two about horror.**College/Modern Day AU**
Relationships: Mercedes von Martritz/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Reaaaaally wanted to write Mercibert for Halloween and this would-be oneshot shifted into a multi fic. Happy Early Halloween! 
> 
> Stay safe guys!!

Hubert grimaced as a chill crept through his fingerless gloves. The longer he stood out in the cold handing out flyers at the center of Garreg Mach University, the more he regretted wearing them. He shoved his free hand into his pocket, flexing it in an attempt to bring warmth back to his fingers. For whatever reason, the weather decided that, instead of easing into winter, it would rather slap everyone in the face with an early snowfall.

It’s not supposed to snow in October. _At all_.

And especially not during the week of Halloween!

At least the snow would melt by tomorrow. He would only have to suffer through it for today. A couple of students passed by, and that was his cue to take his hand out of the warmth of his pocket. He held out a flyer and recited in a flat tone, “House of the Bloody Eagles. Opens at sunset, tickets are $10 per person. It’ll be pretty spooky.”

The passersby shared a look before politely taking the flyer without saying a word. He stared at them as they left, letting out a sigh. God, this was kind of degrading. Just because he wore all black didn’t mean he was _that_ scary. Hubert was ready to hand the rest of his flyers to Caspar and go on a ten minute break - which, for him, meant hiding in the bathroom on his phone and mindlessly scrolling through Twitter. He should have just lied to Edelgard and said that he had class during this hour.

His excitement to work at the haunted house the Black Eagles hosted every October overshadowed common sense, however. His fraternity went all out - probably because it raked in so much cash for funds. There was an old farmhouse that Ferdindand’s family just so happened to have and allowed them to host it there.

It was his first year working the haunted house, because last year, his old job at Hot Topic wouldn’t let him have that time off. At least he didn’t have to stand outside in the cold then.

“Hubert!”

He hadn’t noticed that Mercedes and her friend Annette had been standing in front of him. Garreg Mach was a small university, and when there were only two other Greek houses, everyone sort of knew each other. Or at least “knew of” them.

They were less bundled-up than the other students around campus since they were more used to the cold. Mercedes still wore a shawl around her shoulders, the embroidery with the mascot of their house, The Blue Lions.

“I like your gloves,” Mercedes said. “You’re brave to be wearing them on such a chilly day.”

Hubert glanced down at his gloves then back at her. “Uhm, thank you.”

Her attention diverted to the flyers in his hand. “You’re working at the haunted house? Oooh, I nearly forgot that it was happening this year.”

“I can’t imagine working in one. I think I would be too scared of myself.” Annette made a face. “I can’t even watch horror movies without covering my eyes.”

Mercedes wrapped an arm around Annette with a pleasant smile. “Well, once you get used to it, it’s no longer scary anymore.”

The redhead’s eyes widen. “You’re...you’re not trying to take me to a haunted house...right?”

“I can’t go by myself this year! It’ll be so much fun if you came with me! In fact,” she took one of the flyers from Hubert, handing it to Annette, “Why don’t we have everyone else come along?”

“Noooo! _Mercedes!_ ”

She squished Annette’s cheeks between her hands, cooing, “Ooh, I’ll protect you from all the scary ghosties and monsters that jump out.” Despite her protesting, Mercedes continued to squish, assuring her that nothing bad would happen.

It was strange to see Mercedes acting like… _that._ In the class she shared with him, she was always so serious and focused. Annette must bring out that hidden weirdness. “So, uh, I’ll see you guys around sunset? Tickets are $10 per person,” Hubert awkwardly chimed in, creating a pause on the scene. He felt dumb for saying that. They had the flyer, they could have just read all that.

“Yeah! I’ll be on the lookout for you.” Mercedes beamed. “I hope your costume is really scary!”

He simply nodded, watching her drag her wailing friend off into the distance. Tonight was certainly going to be interesting.

“Dude.” Caspar moved next to him, voice lowering as he handed out a flyer. “Do you know who you just talked to?”

“Yeah, that was Mercedes. She’s in my Anatomy class.”

“That’s _Mercedes von Maritriz,_ man.”

“Caspar, I don’t know what the hell you mean by that.”

He took a step back, his face lighting up as he slapped his forehead with his hand. “Shit. Nobody told you about Mercedes. It’s your first year.”

The way he was acting greatly confused Hubert. He did not like being out of the loop. “Did she do something wrong? Has she banned from the haunted house or something? I had no idea if that is the case.”

“Kind of? The thing with Mercedes is that,” he paused for dramatic effect. “She doesn’t get scared. Like at all.”

That was it? That was really it? The fluffy, smiley girl doesn’t get frightened of haunted houses? Big deal.

Hubert scoffed, ignoring Caspar for a second to hand out a flyer. “So what if she doesn’t get scared? That’s not weird.”

“No, dude. You’re not getting it at all. She _laughs_ at scary stuff. Thinks blood and bones and all that shit to be adorable. Last year she visited the haunted house three times, and not _once_ did she get startled by anything. We changed up our routine when we noticed she was there, but she just… _knew._ ”

“Again, Caspar. That’s not all that strange. Some people are just like that.”

He was beginning to get worked up, frustrated at Hubert for not understanding. “Listen. I chased her throughout the house with a fucking chainsaw, and when she was cornered against a wall, she _giggled_! _‘Oh gosh, that was quite thrilling! I’ve never had that happen to me before! Ohohoho_!’” Caspar raised his voice to a high falsetto, exasperated. “I think she kind of gets off to that kind of stuff, man. Didn’t think she was that type _but_ -”

“Don’t… say that. That’s really weird to think about. Why are you thinking about that?”

He raised his arms in protest. “I’m trying to come up with a logical conclusion as to why Mercedes is weird, and that is a logical conclusion.”

Hubert looked down at Caspar with a scowl, shaking his head. “And while analyzing the elusive data for a “logical conclusion”, it did not occur to you that someone of your height wielding a fake chainsaw is not that frightening?”

“All I’m saying is that it’s weird.”

“Whatever,” he shoved the rest of the flyers into his hands. “I’m taking my break. I’ll be back in ten.”

“But it’s my break -”

“I don’t care. It’s mine now.”

Hubert sauntered off towards the campus library. It was the closest building he could duck into, and he could try to warm up there. Maybe check out the vending machines for some chips or something. He entered the building, the heat warming his cheeks. It was dead around this hour; most of the other students were in class. He sat at an empty table, resting his chin atop his palm as he pulled out his phone. All he had was a text message from the Black Eagles group chat from Petra.

She had sent a gif of Michael Myers with his knife raised as he chased Laurie around the house, with a text that said “This will be us!!!”

Turning the phone off, he pulled at a loose string on his glove. He thought about what Caspar said in regards to Mercedes. Sure, yeah, he’d admit that it was weird to not get scared. He was like that himself. Still, everyone was scared of something. There was always one thing in the world that someone would fear; from gore to corpses, snakes to scorpions. Even clowns. (Hubert personally found clowns to be creepy, but he wasn’t going to tell anyone that.)

Mercedes _had_ to be scared of something. A determination grew in his chest, a goal to be accomplished.

He, Hubert von Vestra, was going to make Mercedes scream in fright.

A hand touched his shoulder that nearly caused him to jump. He turned his head, ready to be annoyed at Caspar and tell him he still had time left, when it was the legend herself: Mercedes.

“Heeey..” He looked around. She was by herself this time, holding a paper cup of hot chocolate in each hand.

“Were you busy with something? I’m sorry to have bothered you.” She eyed the glove with the loose string.

“Oh, uhm...” He trailed off, covering the glove with his other hand. “No. I’m only warming up. Standing outside in the cold isn’t my cup of tea.”

She giggled - of course, she giggled - and set one of the cups down on the table. “I don’t have any tea, but I ended up with an extra hot chocolate if you want it.”

He looked at it, then back at her, hesitating to take it. “How did that happen?”

“I don’t know. They must have misheard three instead of two and when I tried to pay for it, they let me have it for free.” She shrugged. “Annette had one, and I’m drinking the other. I didn’t want the third one to go to waste, so I was going to give it to someone, and then I saw you!”

Hubert didn’t like hot chocolate, but he wasn’t going to tell her so. He slid it closer to him, cupping his hands around its warmth. Steam seeped from the gap in the lid, the chocolatey scent enticing him. A thought struck him. Was this some sort of bribe? A way for her to get him to leak out what his role was at the haunted house or what scares they had this year?

No, it couldn’t be. It was just a nice gesture.

He took a cautious sip, expecting the hot chocolate to be too sugary, but it wasn’t that sweet. Tolerable at worst. “Not bad. Thank you.”

Mercedes nodded, taking the seat across from him to enjoy her own hot chocolate. A drop was left on her lip and she licked it away with her tongue. “It's always nice to have a hot drink on a cold day. Really helps you feel cozy.”

“I suppose so. Usually, I have a cup of coffee at the start of the day. But I have coffee all year ‘round.”

“This is my favorite time of year! It’s not too cold, but just enough to wear sweaters, the leaves fall and crunch under your boots. You get to roast pumpkin seeds after carving jack-o-lanterns. I can watch ‘ _Over the Garden Wall’_ one night and the next, a horror movie.”

He smirked. “What’s your favorite horror movie?”

Her eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought as she sipped on her hot chocolate. “Oh, I don’t know. I like the classics a lot. ‘ _The Texas Chainsaw Massacre_ ’ has a special place in my heart. I never get tired of Bubba Sawyer swinging his chainsaw around in agony. I pity that poor baby.” She shook her head sadly, letting out a heavy sigh.

Shit. Maybe Caspar was right. Referring to a murderous cannibal merely as a “poor baby” was more than odd.

Hubert asked, changing the subject to move on from her comment. “Have you seen ‘ _The Lighthouse_ ’?” It was the most recent horror movie he saw.

She perked up. “No! I really wanted to when it came out though. From what I heard it’s really good. Psychological horror can be hit or miss, but that genre seems to be popular these days. Not many people make gory slasher flicks anymore.” A hint of disappointment dripped from her voice. “It’s not a bad thing. There’s just something about a mindless slasher movie that’s fun to me, I guess.”

“You seem to be really passionate about horror in general.”

“Yeah,” she giggled. “I really like it for some reason. You’ve probably heard from the rest of the Black Eagles that I don’t scare easily.”

“Something like that.” He sipped his hot chocolate. “That’s not a bad thing, you know. I don’t scare easily as well.”

Mercedes giggled again, and Hubert knew that he had said something false. In fact it kind of bothered him. He had to prove to her that he could stomach fear.

“I’m excited to see what you guys are doing this year for the haunted house. I went by myself one time, and Caspar chased me with a chainsaw until I got tired. Oooooh, that was thrilling! I didn’t know you guys were allowed to pull such a stunt. I think I went during an hour when it wasn’t that busy if I recall. Was it a real one he was using? Like it had one of those covers or something to prevent it from causing harm?”

He imagined him chasing her in circles, making him laugh a bit too loudly. Someone shushed him. “I don’t think Caspar chased you with a real chainsaw.”

“Oh. Well, it was still fun!”

“What? Do you want to be chased with an _actual_ weapon?” Hubert was treading into dangerous territory with that question, and he was not sure of what would come.

“I don’t want to get stabbed or anything dreadful like that, but…” She trailed off.

“But?”

 _Fuck_. Caspar was absolutely right. The fury kept growing within him the longer Mercedes took to finish her sentence.

“Maybe…” Her words were carefully chosen. “Maybe, being chased around with a knife or something would be kind of fun? Gosh, that sounds really weird, and even telling you this - you must be really creeped out just hearing it. It’s just that running around like I’m the Final Girl sounds super fun. There’s an added risk of a real knife. It can kill me.”

Hubert wasn’t sure how to respond. Sure, yeah, that sounded mostly reasonable. Very weird, but reasonable, in a way? It was difficult to really make sense of it, but he knew it wasn’t some fetish. Mercedes was just passionate about horror. A little too passionate.

“That’s not the most fucked up thing I’ve heard,” he admitted. “You could be into worse stuff, I suppose.”

Before Mercedes could respond, an angry Caspar came rushing at them. A couple of flyers drifted onto the carpet. “Dude! Your break is over! Stop flirting with girls and hand out flyers. It's my break time now.”

“Oh, hello, Caspar! Are you going to be using the chainsaw again this year?” Mercedes smiled, tilting her head to the side. Her smile didn’t seem that genuine, more teasing than pleasant.

Hubert coughed into his hand to hide a laugh, seeing the fluster grow on his face. He got up from the table, taking the hot chocolate with him. “I’ll see you tonight, Mercedes.”

“Good luck!” She waved him goodbye as he was more or less dragged off. A flyer was left on the table they sat at. The other two were picked up by him, one of them crumpled from being stepped on. Hubert tucked that into the pile of flyers.

Tonight was going to be interesting.

* * *

Hubert appraised the makeup he applied on himself in the tiny mirror. He could have added more black under his eyes, but there wasn’t much time left. The haunted house was about to open and Edelgard was barking at everyone to come for a short meeting before it was official working hours.

The Black Eagles stood all around in a circle. Linhardt was the only person missing, but he was running the ticket stand. He was probably busy dealing with the long queue of customers eager to get into the house. Edelgard stood with a hand on her hip with Bernadetta at her side, holding a clipboard and walkie talkie.

“We got a big crowd out there tonight. I just want to reiterate that safety is the biggest priority. Safety for the guests, and safety for you guys. It’s a two-way street. If there is any sign of danger, let your partner and I know immediately. The new cameras should be able to capture better than the ones last year, but they can’t see everything. Be on your guard, and pay attention to your surroundings.

“Second, absolutely no touching the guests. Even if you know the person, you cannot touch them in any circumstances. Unless it is an emergency. Otherwise, _no._ ”

Edelgard clapped her hands together. “Let’s look undead, folks!” Bernadetta jumped at the noise. The two of them disappeared to the security room, while everyone else went to their station.

The theme of this year’s haunted house was essentially “fucked-up family” that could be a spin off of ‘House of a 1000 Corpses’. Dorothea was the guide, trying to get the guests away from the house before the rest of her family found out they were there and tried to kill them. Surprise, surprise, each room she would lead them into, a family member was there and they would all narrowly escape the danger.

Hubert’s role was to follow the guests without being detected until the end when Dorothea would do a headcount and say something like “Huh? I thought there was x number.” That would be his cue to stagger forward with the knife before they ran out of the back door to a corn maze that would lead them back to safety. He would chase them down right when they reach the exit, and he’d slink back into the shadows, stalking the next party of guests.

His role used to belong to Caspar before he was demoted. According to Caspar, he just got tired and wanted something simple this year. Surely, chasing down Mercedes had nothing to do with it.

He was between the wall panels, making sure that his footsteps were light. Part of his costume was heavy platform boots that made his already somewhat imposing height even taller. Regular, leather boots would be more suitable, but he liked that they made him spookier. His eyes peeked out of a painting, and he was able to see part of the entryway.

The door opened, and the first party of the night entered the house. Dorothea did her bit, warning the guests to stick with her and be quiet. He was able to linger for a few moments before he had to follow them. But he still was able to hear a familiar voice from outside.

“Em- Mr. Scary Scarecrow! May I please take a photo with you?”

He bit his lip to stifle a laugh. Emile was dressed as a bloody scarecrow that walked along the queue, raising tension for the crowd before they walked in the house. Mercedes must have recognized him. It couldn’t have been that hard, given how lanky he was.

He moved to his second spot, peering out to the group from another painting. They were now in the living room. Dorothea explained that they needed to grab the key from the sleeping “Grandpa,” aka Caspar, without waking him up. The key was on the table, and right as a guest would grab the key, Grandpa would wake up and scream at them. They would run into the kitchen where they would be safe, but see a display of rotten green food mingling with body parts. 

A brave soul from the party went up to the table and swiped the key. Caspar “woke up” and screamed “THAT’S MY KEY. I DON’T KNOW YOU.”

Hubert rolled his eyes. Improv was fine - it’s expected in this kind of job. But to quote King of the Hill was just bad form. Dorothea noticed too. She stomped up to him and slapped the back of his head. “Shut up Grandpa!” she yelled in a hushed tone. Fortunately, the guests didn’t overhear. The one who stole the key let out a scream as Caspar woke up. Letting out a huff, Dorothea left the living room and motioned the group to the kitchen. This also meant that Hubert would leave his hiding spot and begin to follow them.

He slid out from between the walls, each step careful. Caspar met his glance, letting their awkward stares communicate for them. Waving goodbye, Hubert left him there, watching the party from a safe distance. He heard them shuffle around the corner, and screams followed. Animatronics had been set up around the house to be triggered at a certain sound or motion. They filled in the gaps of scares that kept guests on edge right before witnessing another scary scene.

In fact, they were going to reach Ferdinand’s room soon. They would all creep up the stairs, and try to see if there was a place to hide, as one of the family members might have heard “Grandpa” screaming. Dorothea opened the first door to the left, ushering in the party before entering herself. Hubert stayed at the bottom of the stairs. It’s not like he was missing much from not being able to go upstairs. He knew what was about to happen. 

A chainsaw revved up, and screams followed, along with Ferdinand bellowing “Look at all these rats you brought me, sister-dear!” He laughed maniacally as they all rushed out of the room, running across the hallways towards hopefully an empty room. Hubert took a few steps up, freezing for a heart-pounding second when one of the floorboards creaked beneath his boots. Other than the sound of the dying chainsaw, nobody noticed.

More screaming, and the guests fled towards yet another room - the bathroom. The room they left was the “Nursery.” Hubert had helped with this room, hanging up random doll legs and heads from the ceilings, constructing a pile of dolls in a way that would conceal Petra from the patrons at first. Then she would crawl out on her hands and knees, her head upside down and her voice wailing in the shadows “Play with meee! Play with meeeeee! Plaaaaay with meeeee!”

They were in the bathroom, but not for much longer. Flayn was dressed up as a skeletal mermaid, pretending to be dead as she floated in the tub. Even though her role was not that big, she went all out on the costume. She wore one of those silicone mermaid tails and the end was frayed, like she was decomposing. Fake gills were on her neck. Hubert couldn’t remember if she was wearing a bald cap or not. There was some drama with her father not allowing it for some reason.

He heard Flayn shriek, along with audio clips of otters that had been modified to sound inhuman. That was his cue to go back down the stairs, hide underneath them until the group was too, and then join them, walking much closer behind them than before. He nearly had to jump over the banister to hide, fake cobwebs catching onto the belts tied around his body. Footsteps headed down the stairs, and he unclipped his mask from one of the belts, putting it on.

He should have fixed the eye sockets better. They had a thin, black mesh that covered his eyes. While in the dark, someone couldn’t see his eyes, but he wasn’t able to see through them too well, either. It was too late to do anything about it. Now it was his time to shine.

And not fuck it all up the first night.

Dorothea led them towards the back door, stopping in front of it. “Now, lemme get a headcount before I let y’all leave. Make sure nobody got captured or something.” She counted, made a face, and counted once again. “Huh, I thought there were five of you. Not six.”

There were murmurs of confusion and someone turned around, jumping at the sight of Hubert. He raised his fake knife, tilting his head to the side as his body jerked forward, prompting Dorothea to unlock the backdoor and rushing the guests out. Waiting at least three seconds (Edelgard insisted on that number), he ran after them into the maze. The platform boots weighed him down, and he was only able to see the lights ahead of the guests, but it wasn’t that bad. They all made it safely to the exit and that was the end of the first round.

The next few groups went through smoothly without any major hiccups. One girl couldn’t stop bawling her eyes out and was frozen from fear. Hubert had to escort her out - making sure to hide the knife and mask to not freak her out any further. He took her to Edelgard and Berndetta to have her wait with them until her friends were done. They had a little system set up where they would show a “behind the scenes” of the haunted house, explaining the mechanics, and stating to the guest that they would never really get hurt. A nice way to comfort and calm them down.

Even a couple of folks from Golden Deer showed up - Claude and Hilda. The girl was utterly terrified of everything and wouldn’t let go of his arm until he would start to push her towards one of the Black Eagles. “Hilda don’t be so rude. Offer the nice gentleman with the chainsaw one of your arms,” Hubert had heard him say up in Ferdinand's room.

“Noooo! Claude, you were supposed to protect me!”

“Then he can have one of my arms. Get my phone out and record it for Tiktok. We’ll be so famous!”

“We don’t have any data out here! And we’re going to die if we don’t leave soon!” Dorothea protested.

“Fiinneeeee. Sorry, no arm for you today, broski.”

The chainsaw revved up once more and Hilda screamed, dragging Claude by the arm to the next room.

After chasing the two Golden Deer off, Hubert returned to his first spot in the house, lifting the mask up so he was able to down half a bottle of water. His legs were starting to ache from that constant stomping and running back and forth. Wiping some sweat and makeup from his face, he sat on a little stool waiting for his cue.

The walkie talkie beeped and he took it out. “Everything all right?”

“Sort of.” It was Linhardt’s voice. “The Blue Lions are the next group coming in. And you-know-who is with them.”

“Mercedes?”

“Eeyup.”

“Good luck trying to scare her, Grandpa.” That was Dorothea.

“You did such a great job last year,” Petra joined in.

“Shut up!” whined Caspar.

“Get it together, guys! We treat von Martriz like any other customer,” Edelgard barked, adding in a much softer tone, “Even though it is weird that she laughs when we try to scare her.”

Hubert was about to protest and say that “Some people are just like that,” and, “It’s okay to admit that the Black Eagles can’t scare the church girl.”, but the door opened and voices came closer.

It was showtime.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a funny somewhere in this chapter. If you find it you get a gold star!! ^_^

Hubert had been warned ahead of time that the Blue Lions were a bit unpredictable. He didn’t press the issue further, but had a feeling that the incident between Caspar and Mercedes wasn’t the only one that happened last year. Knowing that, he expected them to be wild. A hypocritical statement, considering the fellow members of the Black Eagles; his excuse was that there was at least a _little_ balance to the chaos. 

The Golden Deer knew they were nothing but chaos incarnate, and harnessed it well for their own purposes.

The Blue Lions were simply _unaware_.

Deep in his weary bones, Hubert knew that their group was going to take their time sauntering through the farmhouse. Sylvain, Felix, and Ingrid entered first - whether they were brave or foolish remained to be seen, followed by Ashe, Dedue, and Dimitri. Mercedes and Annette came in last, the latter hanging onto the former’s arm for dear life.

“Don’t you want to be more in the middle, Annette?” He heard Mercedes say.

“Ah, noooo! I trust that you can protect me. You said that you would.”

“Somebody might try to grab the both of us because we’re last in line,” Mercedes warned. Her friend was off in a flash, squeezing herself between Dimitri and Dedue.

The door closed, sealing them all in together. Dorothea began narrating about the house, and about how if they don’t leave, her family was going to come after them. Squinting through the portrait, Hubert could make out that Sylvain had stopped, leaning his arm against the wall.

“Nice get-up there, ma’am.” He waved his arm, pointing out the torn costume she was wearing. It wasn’t meant to be revealing at all. Then again, she wore a skirt. He would chase after literally anything wearing a skirt. “It fits in quite well with the atmosphere. Kind of dark in here, but I like it. Makes it really moody.”

It got old - fast - and Hubert thought to attempt to shut him up, if he was just going to make comments about Dorothea all night.

Between the walls, Hubert crept closer to the spot Sylvain was leaning against. With the back of his hand, he banged it against the spot, producing a forceful thud that shook the portrait off the wall. A high pitched scream nearly broke his eardrums, and laughter followed.

“So much for saying you weren’t going to be scared, dumbass,” Ingrid jeered at him.

“I’m not scared! That was highly unexpected, a-and I was caught off guard. A significant difference between the two.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you wanna say to make yourself feel better.”

Hubert’s walkie-talkie beeped a little too loud for comfort. Bringing it up to his ear, he didn’t respond in case someone - _Mercedes_ \- heard his voice.

“Nice work with Sylvain. I’m so happy we caught that on camera.” A distant giggle crackled over the receiver from the background. He signaled the walkie-talkie off, shaking his head with the faintest hint of a grin. Good to know he wasn’t going to get in trouble with Edelgard for that little stunt. For the time being.

Hubert moved to the next portrait to find that the party had gathered in the living room. He was able to catch a glimpse of Mercedes again. She was waltzing around the farmhouse as if at an open house, absorbing all that she saw and inspecting each decoration with a cheerful demeanor. Her footsteps light, hands folded behind her back. It was like she was going to buy the farmhouse as is, fake gore and blood merely a perk. She turned her gaze towards the portrait and started to walk towards it.

Oh shit.

Hubert kept his eyes wide open. There was nothing to see here. Just a creepy portrait. Ignore it, _please_. The urge to blink was rapidly growing, his eyes stinging with tears. He bit the inside of his cheek and counted, anything to keep himself distracted from the urge. She was much closer, eyebrows furrowed together as she studied the portrait. Did she know it was him, hiding in the walls? He was about to break out in a cold sweat from the thought of Mercedes immediately knowing it was. His heart leaped to his throat.

Caspar broke the tension by yelling out something incomprehensible in his grandpa voice. Her head snapped in the direction of the shouts. 

In that brief second, he moved away from the portrait, blinking hard to return some sensation to his eyes. For once, he was grateful for Caspar. He wasn’t going to last much longer if she kept staring. He was going to scare her, not have her laugh at him. The former was beginning to feel hopeless. If she wouldn’t be caught off-guard by a jump scare, then a planned horror might not work either. There just _had_ to be something that spooked her. Something she feared. But what?

Wiping away a tear, he moved to his next spot by the stairs, crouching just as they started to come up. He’d stand up, but each step ached. If he was going to survive the next week, the platform boots had to go. No matter how domineering and daunting it made him feel. Comfort over aesthetics.

A yell and a crash interrupted his thoughts.

“Dimitri!”

“Sorry about that! I was so surprised, I couldn’t stop myself from punching that _thing_.”

Hubert was confused about what he meant, then recalled the animatronic cat that jumped out when somebody went by it. There was nothing special about it. It wasn’t even designed as a Halloween decoration. Just some cheap thing that was picked up at a dollar store. If it had been anything else - _or one_ \- Dimitri would have been kicked to the curb on the spot. He was about to call it in when Edelgard beeped the walkie-talkie.

“I saw what happened, but didn’t see what he hit.”

“I believe it was the cat.”

She sighed heavily. “...Don’t worry about it. Just keep an eye on him, I’ll handle the cat later.”

The Blue Lions went upstairs - a shriek coming from Annette as the floorboard groaned underneath her feet. Hubert had been concerned that she would need to be escorted out, considering her jumpiness. Surprisingly enough, she had been holding up well thus far. Now, it seemed like Sylvain wanted to leave.

“Fucking hell, I really don’t want to go up there. I wanna go home,” Hubert heard him mumble.

“You’re my ride back to campus, and you’re not driving off without me,” Felix replied. “Suck it up.”

“I wasn’t going to! I’d wait in the car for you.”

“That’s what you told me last year. Look what happened. _Suck it up_.”

More protests arose from Sylvain, but the sound of a chainsaw revving from Ferdinand’s room shut him up. “Are those little rats I hear tittering outside my room?” He must have heard the bickering and stepped out to see what was going on. “Sister-dear, please bring them into my room. I have a brilliant experiment to try out, and the only things I need are eight squirming rats to play with!”

“Get away from them!” Dorothea pleaded. There was shuffling above his head, followed by a door shutting. The chainsaw had gone quiet. Hubert assumed that they must be in the Nursery now. Creeping out from his hiding spot, he peered up the stairs.

Mercedes was out in the hallway standing right by Dorothea. Both lingered at the doorway, watching Petra slither out of the dark and towards the group. She placed a hand over her mouth, trying to hide her smile. It made Hubert wonder, after witnessing that pure joy over her friends being terrified out of their minds, why the Black Eagles hadn’t invited her to be part of the haunted house crew. She would fit in - too well, perhaps. Still, she’d have some great insight on how to improve the scares, increase the tension. They would benefit from her expertise, so to speak.

If Flayn was able to get permission to participate from the Dean (probably helped that her father _was_ the Dean), Mercedes should participate next year. That is, if she wanted to in the first place. And granted that the Black Eagles would want her.

The group had run out of the bathroom and Dorothea had them all running downstairs. Hubert dove back under them before he was seen. More fake cobwebs caught on his belt. When it would happen he would try to pull them out and half-hazard wrap them around the banister if he had time. At the moment, he couldn’t care. They could be accessories to his costumes.

Mask on and knife out, Hubert stood behind the group. He heard Dorothea make a show of her counting at least a dozen times, prompting him to zone out until she pointed out the odd number. 

“Nine?! I thought there were eight.” 

_“Nine?”_ Annette whimpered. 

The heads of the Blue Lions turned around to face him, before they began to scramble for the exit. 

“God - where did he come from?” He heard Dimitri say.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m getting out of here. Who has the key?” Sylvain began to move through the group eager to be the first one to leave. 

“I have the key! I’ll unlock it, Sylvain. It’s not like he’s going to chase us around.” Ashe looked back at him. Hubert stepped forward, the wooden floorboards groaning from beneath his heavy boots, knife raised high above his tilted head.

This action only stirred the panic.

“Ashe, hurry up already!”

“What’s taking so long?!”

“Give _me_ the key. At least _I_ know how to use it..”

“St-stop grabbing my hand so tight!”

The loudest of the Blue Lions fought amongst themselves. Dedue was trying to comfort a petrified Annette while blocking a brewing fistfight between Ingrid and Sylvain. Ashe somehow was lying on the floor. Dimitri covered his face, either in disappointment in his fellows, or embarrassment that he was unable to unlock a door. Dorothea was pulling out her walkie-talkie, ready to call in an incident while glaring at Hubert for not doing anything. Hell, he didn’t know where to start. The mask still clouded his vision and there wasn’t enough time to act.

“Guys, calm down!” Mercedes' voice soothed the quarreling. She stood by Hubert, hooking an arm around his waist. His body became stiff from the sudden hug, knife lowering. He knew he wasn’t supposed to touch the guests. What was he supposed to do if one touched _him?_ In a friendly manner? Turning towards Dorothea, she didn’t appear to have an answer, either. Like him, she had no idea what to do.

“He’s my new friend! And my new friend won’t hurt you guys, right? Well, not yet. You’ll give us a head start before you start to hunt us down, right?”

A nod was a sufficient enough answer.

“Now,” she left Hubert to stand by the door, hand outstretched, with a soft smile dancing on her lips. “Who has the key?”

Nobody said anything at first. Each glanced around at the others, wondering who had it or if it had become lost. A second or two later, Felix picked up the key from the floor, placing it in Mercedes’ hand.

“Thank you, Felix.” She slid the key into the door, twisting it open. The sight of the lit up corn maze was a welcome one. Mercedes stepped aside to allow the Blue Lions to scramble out before following them, her pace much slower than their speedy escape. No matter how agonizing it was to sprint in the boots, it was going to be satisfying chasing them away from the haunted house.

Three. Two. One.

Hubert held up the knife and _ran_.

His bones ached and cried out, lungs heaving as he pushed himself more, running faster than he had all night. He drove them out of the corn maze and into the parking lot - going beyond the invisible boundary he wasn’t supposed to cross. Though, it was probably a good thing because he saw a figure dart into the corn field itself. Rustling stalks confirmed his suspicions.

Goddamnit.

Taking out his walkie-talkie, he spoke into it. “One of the Blue Lions ran off into the corn fields. I’m going after them. They might have gotten too scared. Hopefully, it shouldn’t take too long for me to find them.”

An audible groan came from Edelgard. “I was going to be shocked if they _weren’t_ going to hold up the line.”

“They were fine until the end. Dorothea can fill you in on the details.”

“Let me know when you find them.”

“Will do.”

The handset beeped off. Taking off his mask and unclipping a small flashlight from his belt, Hubert darted off into the direction the person fled. If he had to make a guess of their identity, it was either Sylvain or Annette.

Annette - completely understandable.

Sylvain - complete dumbass.

He stopped as a horrible, wretched thought struck him like an arrow. 

No. _No._ Did she really…? Sighing, he picked up the pace. There was only one way he was going to find out.

The cornstalks were much taller than him, lapping up what little moonlight shone upon him. The flashlight only did so much. His cheeks grew red and numb from the stinging cold. As he pushed his way through, the brittle stems crackled. Some leaves fell to his feet, crunching into dust as he stepped on them. 

The further he strayed away from the haunted house, the more Hubert felt ill at ease. Almost irritable. What was the point of all this trouble? Was she going to jump out of the cornstalks to scare _him_?

A snap ahead of Hubert brought him to a stop. He remained still, holding his breath to listen carefully. Muffled footsteps were heard north of him. He must be catching up to her. With his own footsteps too loud, she must know that he too was close by. He continued to follow her, stopping every few steps to listen if she had changed her course.

She was still headed North. Was she aware of something ahead that he wasn’t?

The walkie-talkie beeped, and he took it out once more, clicking it on. “Apologizes for taking so long. I have no idea where she went.” All he got in response was static. Waving it around in the air, he searched for a signal. Nothing came from his attempt. Only more static.

Flustered, he shut it off and shouted into the darkness. “ _Mercedes_!”

No reply.

More broken cornstalks, and another cry of her name resulted in nothing. The wind was beginning to pick up, sending more of the stabbing chill through his body. He tried the walkie-talkie again, speaking Edelgard’s name into it. There wasn’t even static coming from the speaker. Just a horrible silence that confirmed how far away he was.

Screw it. If she wanted to get lost in the cornfield to do fuck-knows-what, that was her choice. 

Hubert was ready to turn back towards the farmhouse. A few steps, and suddenly she was there. Her hand covered her eyes as the flashlight rays shone right on her face. “That’s rather bright, isn’t it?”

Lowering it, he ran his tongue across his lips, clicking it off. The anger left him, taking all the energy he had left with it. He wasn’t angered or frustrated anymore. Exhausted, really.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” his voice whispered. “We should get back.”

“Or what?” Her voice was just as soft.

“What do you mean _‘Or what?_ ’ I’ll be in trouble - that’s what. I’m not going to sit out here in the dark and play games with you, Mercedes.”

She remained still, hands clasped together and back straight. Waiting - though, for what? Waiting for him to make a move? He let out an exasperated sigh. Fine. He will.

“Run.” Hubert waved his hand.

“Run?” Mercedes repeated.

“Run, or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Lingering, she smiled at him as if to say, “You wouldn’t dare.” Then she was off like a startled deer (Thankfully going in the direction of the haunted house). He put on the mask, tearing off the mesh so he could actually try to see. The hunt was on. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, his body ready to pursue her through the cornfields with renewed vigor.

Even though Mercedes had a head-start, she wasn’t a fast runner. Even in his boots, he managed to catch up to her rather quickly. His hand reached out to grab her sweater only to find himself grabbing the air. She had shifted to his left and dashed off in another direction. He paused, listening for any rustling stalks. A snap to his right and he reached out into the darkness once more, his gloved fingers brushing against her sweater collar. Just out of reach.

She flitted away from him again, and once more he was left stranded, alone. Focused, he stilled himself, detecting anything that could betray her presence. Even the fluttering sounds of her panting - which he heard very clearly. Knife raised, Hubert only had to reach out again and grasp her arm, pulling out from her hiding place. She yelped out, trying to free herself, but his grasp only tightened, holding her arm on her chest to push her body to his chest.

“Clever little trick you had there. You _almost_ got away with it.”

“Silly me. Guess I’m going to die now.” Her head rested on his chest, tilted up. A goddamn grin from ear to ear. He put the knife to her neck, dragging it against her skin, whistling to make a slashing noise as he did. She dramatically fell to the ground, giggling as she rubbed her neck.

“The dead aren’t supposed to laugh,” he stretched out his hand. “Especially if their throat was slit.”

“I suppose I ruined my own immersion,” she replied with another giggle as he helped her up. ”Thank you.”

“Now, we really should be heading back towards the others. I’m sure your friends must be worried about you.” Removing the mask, he wiped away the sheen of sweat on his forehead. As his body gradually calmed down, the pain gradually returned, settling into his calves. Tomorrow was going to be absolute Hell. “Edelgard’s going to chew my ass out for taking so long. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m let go.”

Mercedes patted his arm. “I’m sure Edelgard wouldn’t fire you for trying to find me. Thank God you did - I was going to end up running all the way back home at this rate!”

“Wait…” he faltered. Running a hand through his hair he collected his thoughts before speaking once more. “Did you think _this_ ,” he gestured vaguely to the corn field. “Was all a part of the act?”

“I did at first. I thought it was strange that I kept running and didn't see anyone or any lights, but assumed it must have been part of the “final showdown”. Then I heard you, and the panic in your voice. That’s when I realized that I went the wrong way. I’m terribly sorry for all the trouble.” She stomped on some fallen stalks, the crackling sound echoing throughout the field.

Hubert didn’t know whether to call her cute, or an idiot. Maybe a cute idiot.

“I’ll explain everything to Edelgard.” Mercedes assured him, patting his arm once again, taking her time to move her hand away. “It was my fault anyway.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. Who knew what Edelgard would be like by the time they got back? “Next time, I’ll use a real knife.”

“Okay, that sounds good!”

* * *

It was not as horrific as Hubert anticipated. When they both emerged from the cornfield, they were met by the Blue Lions all stuffed in Sylvain’s minivan.

“Did y’all fuck?!” he hooted at them from the driver seat’s open window, honking his horn repeatedly, much to the dismay of both of them. “Get it, Mercedes!”

She covered her face with her hands as she mumbled a goodbye and rushed over to hop in the car.

“That’s where you were? You and Hubert were _doing it_? In the _fields_?” Annette chided. “I was so worried when nobody could find you.”

“We were not!” she protested. The van door closed, and, while Hubert was unable to hear them bicker any longer, he still could see them through the window. Waving them off, he watched the Blue Lions drive off into the distance. Good fucking riddance, he supposed.

“Dude! Did somebody say that you fucked Mercedes?” Caspar called out behind him, leading the ensemble of Black Eagles.

“What the hell, Hubert?!” Dorothea glared at him. “That’s why you took so long in finding her?”

“We didn’t - we didn’t _do_ anything,” he began to protest. “She thought that the cornfields were part of the haunted house, and she ran off.”

“Uh huh, sure, buddy.” Ferdinand elbowed him. “I had no idea Mercedes was your type.”

Hubert let out a groan. “I don’t really know her. The connection with the walkie-talkies was bad. We.. we didn’t do anything!”

“Well, whatever you two did, it cost us a pretty penny,” Edelgard said as she stepped up in front. “We had to shut down, since it was taking so long, and gave people their money back on tickets. Half the night is gone and now we’re behind.”

“I am terribly sorry. It was just a matter of unfortunate circumstances and poor connection. If you want to kick me off of the crew, that is perfectly acceptable.”

Edelgard looked at him as if he grew a second head. “Kick you off? And try to find a replacement? Nah - _she’s_ banned from the haunted house.”

“Is it okay if she can pick me up after work?” Emile piped up, his voice quiet. “I don’t have a car yet...”

“That’s acceptable," her voice strained. “As long as she doesn’t try to come into the house, she can pick you up. Now, your punishment,” she turned to Hubert. “You only get one slice of pizza.”

That was perfectly fine. He’d take that without complaint. There was some snickering. But that meant they had moved on from the previous subject. He’d do anything to get them to stop talking about him and Mercedes messing around in the cornfield.

Though as far as Hubert was concerned, he wouldn't necessarily complain about being together with her. She was weird - _really weird_ \- but nice, too.

Maybe he would ask her about it tomorrow.


End file.
